If I kissed you...

Author's note:
Writing is my passion. If I don't write daily, I feel like my day is incomplete. I wrote this to...
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Author's note: Writing is my passion. If I don't write daily, I feel like my day is incomplete. I wrote this to showcase where I am currently at, regarding talent in writing. Currently I have at least five other books I've started on which have the same amount of dedication and talent. When I manage to get a publisher I'll publish them as well when they are finished. This is the first big piece I've put out there that I feel truly shows where I am at in my writing. If you like it, keep in mind this is only part 1, and part 2 is in the works. Any good and constructive feedback is more than welcome. The more feedback I get, the more I will consider there being a part three.
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Get the shears, baby, get the shears!

My feet crunched on the hardened desert floor, sand cracking beneath my feet, I was running, my tired body made of dead weight-as I ran away from the man who would kill me. It would come after my other three friends. Oh God, where are you John? My boyfriend had run off in the killer's direction to distract him after I begged him not to, and now...here I am. Heart pounding through the desert's shadow as night has descended. A slight breeze cools my face as I make myself stop, my feet dead and dragging on the sand and crushed brush. My cold, blue eyes scanned the night, looking for figures-shadows-anything! Anything to tell me whether my John was caught. How could he?! John knew I was weaker-more tired than him, so he ran after the killer and acted as a sacrifice-WHY?! I wailed, unable to control it, sobbing and falling to my knees as dust spat up on my thighs. I caught myself, stifling my pain and pushing it painfully back into my heart instead of out through my wails. It burned, but I got up and tried to clear my eyes. I strained them as hard as I could to see any figures in the distance. I had severe astigmatism, my eyes were blurry most of the time, useless for reading unless I had glasses. I lost my glasses. The killer took them off my nose.

“I think I'll do you a favor.” he said to me. His whispering, rugged voice pierced my memory. He took off the glasses. He was usually quiet, why did he talk to me, was there hope? My lips stretched against the duct tape trying to speak through it to plead with him. My friends, Maleah and Jen weren't duct taped and they were calling out for help, Maleah banging the back of her head against a rustic window to try and shatter it. He looked at the glasses in his hands once-considering, then he dropped them, and they were demolished under his foot.

He grabbed a large pair of shears on the rank, old nightstand. I pressed my back further into the side of his bed frame, my hands were tied behind it. My friends screamed louder and I started yelling through the duct tape for him to stop, it came out as a loud muffled 'No', over and over. He stopped, and slowly his head turned my way. His lean, muscled body turned, towering over my huddled one. Suddenly the doors of his shed ripped open and as their chains rang out against the walls, John ran into him, slamming him into the wall. The shears dropped, but immediately the killer had a hold of John's lank frame, and was flipping him over onto the ground. John's breath was knocked out of him as he gagged, their hands went after each other's chests, punching. John however was only making attempts to land blows as he was blocked and hit hard with every counter-move he would try to make. John was no longer at it, his body was just taking it as he went limp. He received one last blow to the stomach when he cried out, and screamed for me, “Kim!” “No!” I screamed through the tape. The killer turned his head to me, his dark, chiseled face giving me a small grin. “I'm going to kill your weak little boyfriend.” he breathed, trying to get me to react. I did, not caring, shaking my head no, pleading with my eyes. “Hah!” he laughed at me and wrapped his large hands around John's throat. Tears streamed down my face. “NO! NO!” And then the shears were planted into his shoulder. He let out a roar of anger as he fell back, off John his head landing near my feet. I raised my feet and landed them, hard as I could on his skull. His head re-vibrated off the floor boards and settled back as his eyes slowly closed. John ran to me ripping off the tape, I screamed from the pain. “John he's tied us all up! Get the shears, baby, get the shears!” “Uhh...” he moaned in disgust as he jerked the shears from the killers body and cut my ties. I got up immediately, and swayed into him. “I'm so sorry, so sorry!” Maleah started sobbing. “This trip was my idea, it's all my fault!” “No-Maleah it's his! Don't think like that!” Jen comforted. Steadying me, John went immediately to Maleah who was the closest, as he stepped over the killer's body and I let out a blood curdling scream as he came back to life, and grabbed John's feet out from under him. Immediately chorusing screams from Maleah and Jen followed and I jumped on top of the killer's back as he tried throttling John again. “Get off him!” I screamed. John's hand started back to the shears as I wrapped my elbow around his neck, and my legs around his back to keep him from flinging me easily off him. Despite my choke hold, the killer slapped his hand around the shears and raised them up, ready to land them in John's head. I screamed and with all my might, I used my body weight to rip him away from John. His back landed on top of me as we were thrust back words onto the floor, and the air whooshed out of me as I gasped. John kicked the shears from his hand, and attacked him while he was still on me. The killer rolled off me and onto John, and then John managed to grab the sharp end of the shears, as he slammed the steel handle into the killer's head. The killer was knocked back a bit-just enough for John to squeeze from under him and grab me and then we were running, into the morbid desert sunset. We ran when we heard the screams of Maleah and Jen, we ran and we sobbed into the sandy hills.

Now I was alone with the dark. And the cacti. We knew we were being tracked a day ago, after we awoke one morning to find Maleah's head on a spike near us. And then today we heard him laughing in the brush. He had guns. I know he did, but he wouldn't use them against us for some reason. Maybe it softened the hunt? We could always hear him, but never saw him. John said he saw him, John said he had a gun and told me to run. He said he would be right behind me...

“No! John! John?! Where are you?!” I wailed.

Nothing except the barrenness of the desert waste answered me back. I was alone now. I was the only one left. A low rumbling noise intruded into the silence and I ran to it stupidly, knowing it was probably the killer, but that my John must be with him. John, just him, just finding him-the noise sped off into the distance, and then beyond a hill I saw it, the killer's black car speeding back towards wherever his next lair was stationed. “JOHN!” I screamed out, shrill enough to break glass to pieces, the terror of his death-his mutilated corpse, living inside me. My hands were out, helplessly reaching towards the little black square, growing smaller by the second. “Baby...” my voice was a wisp of air. I stood there, the silent breeze blowing tumbleweeds on their course through the dust. A single green cactus stood out from all the surrounding shades of sand and earth. In my silence I knew why he did it, he wanted me to live-he really loved me after all. My mouth hardened into a line, determined not to sob again, and I struggled to keep it there. Salty strains of water leaked from my eyes to the corners of my mouth. I would not die. I will live. I turned my back to John and walked the way he told me to go. There were what looked liked giant boulders in the distance, John said they would make better cover than the ones here that could hide a body easily if lying on the ground. I remembered what he said, “The hills and smaller boulders here could hide him easily, but when we get to the bigger pile of boulders, we could stand on top of them and see where he really was. The only problem is he'll know where we're going, and he's obviously intelligent, so surely he would try to get us before we got there...” he told me. He was right. The killer-whatever his name really was-didn't want us to get there after all. “How can I ever forgive myself?” I asked softly to the air. I was walking away from him, he would die. I turned back, my eyes widened at the thought of turning myself into the killer's hands and getting killed with John. Kim, that is what will happen if you turn back-he has guns! I rationalized with myself. I kept walking. Once I made it to the bigger pile of boulders I climbed onto the side of the pile and fell to the hard surface, singing The Jane Dear Girl's lyrics softly until I fell into sleep, shielded from anyone's eyes.

Your story is amazing, i only post poems on teenink but may post some of my novels in future, I would love to be as good as you, your so talented and personally this is the best thriller I've read!!! Xx

this is incredible and astonishing. i was terrified for the life of the characters, the whole time feeling appreciation for your writing skills. i was captivated by the thrill. u are waaaayy talented. keep writing :)

Wow this story was amazing! Please tell me you're getting published or better yet this is turning into a movie! This story was just perfect beyond words, and had me to the edge of my seat the whole time I was reading it. The only thing I would want is John alive :( lol you just want him to live but how the story came to you noneoftheless was perfect anyways. Very good job you're an exceptionally talented writer.